


Under the Influence

by ObsidianRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Creampie, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Horcruxes, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Multi, Not-so-golden trio, Painful Sex, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, The Golden Trio, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRose/pseuds/ObsidianRose
Summary: The horcrux made them do it.





	Under the Influence

“Ronald, no,” Hermione protested, pushing the boy’s hand from her breast.

“Come on, Mione,” he groaned, pulling at her jumper.  “I want you.  Don’t you want me?”

“Yes, but…”  She trailed off as Ron attached his lips to her throat.  “Harry’s right outside.”

“So?”

“So what if he comes back into the tent?”

The ginger wizard frowned, but continued unbuckling her jeans.  “Harry’s on watch.  Don’t worry about him.”

“Ronald…”

“Fuck’s sake, Mione!” he snapped.  “Shut up and take off your clothes already.”

Hermione glared at him and attempted to shove him away from her.  “I don’t like you like this.”

“No?” he sneered, leaning over her.  “You like it when you can walk all over me.”

“That thing is making you act like an utter arsehole!” she hissed, glancing at the locket peeking out from under his shirt. 

“Is it?” he asked.  “I’d say it’s making you act like a complete bitch, but that’s how you always are.”

Hermione gasped in shock and tried to strike him.  He caught her wrist, however, and tugged her harshly into his chest. 

“Admit it.  You want this.”  A squeak escaped her as he seized her mouth with his.  She protested for a moment, but began to relax and kiss him back.  As she opened her mouth to him, his tongue immediately found its way in and began assaulting hers.

When the witch moaned in pleasure, Ron tumbled her onto the sleeping mat and rapidly began stripping away her clothes.  Desperate to stick his cock inside of her, he impatiently ripped off her knickers and roughly spread her legs apart. 

“Ronald!” she gasped, but watched with interest as he shoved down his trousers and pants to reveal his large cock.  She swallowed with anticipation when he climbed atop of her.  Briefly glancing at the locket that had wiggled its way out from under his shirt, she submissively laid back and used one hand to spread open her labia.

“Good girl,” Ron smirked.  After a brief moment to align things, he roughly thrust into her, eliciting a deep groan.  Having felt no resistance and hearing no pained scream, however, he glared down at her.  “You’ve done this before?”

Hermione opened her eyes.  “Mmm, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s beside the point!” 

“No, it isn’t,” she argued, pushing on his chest.  “You’re not a virgin; I’m not a virgin.  Now, either get over it, or get off of me.”

Slapping her hand away, Ron began thrusting in an irregular rhythm.  Eventually growing frustrated by his motions which did nothing for her, Hermione forced her weight upward and managed to flip their positions.

“What are you –“ His voice cut off as she began to ride his cock.  His hands moved to grip her breasts.  “Ohhh… you are a slut, aren’t you?”

Her hips came to a stop as she glared down at him.  “What?”

“You heard me…” Ron snorted and slammed his cock upwards.  “Slut.”

Her eyes burned, and she slapped his face.  “Don’t you _dare_ call me that, Ronald Weasley!”

Grabbing hold of her hair, he held her head firmly in place.  “How many cocks have you stuck up that hole of yours, hmmm?”

“That’s not any of your –“

“Harry’s?”

“No!”

“One of my brothers?”

“No!”

“Neville?  Dean?  Seamus?”

“Stop it!  No!”

His hand gripped her hair tighter and pulled her forward.  “Cormac?”

“Ow!  Ron, that hurts!”

“So it was Cormac, then!  You fucked him at Slughorn’s party, didn’t you?”

Hermione finally managed to remove his hand from her hair.  “I didn’t mean to  –“

His hand quickly relocated to her throat.  “What was that?”

Her eyes widened as he squeezed, and her fingers pried at his.  What frightened her more, however, was how much the action aroused her.  “I… I… He fucked me, yes.”

“How?”

“He… pushed me against a wall, pushed inside of me.  I didn’t fight him off.”

“You just let him have you?” Ron questioned.  “And you’re enjoying this.  I could kill you right now, and yet your cunt is pleading for more, isn’t it?  Isn’t it?”

Hermione nodded, tears slipping out of her eyes.  “Yes!”

“Was Cormac your first?”

“No.”

He squeezed again.  “Who was?”

“V-viktor!”

“At the Yule Ball?” he hissed.  “You let him fuck you then?”

When she nodded, he yanked her face close to his and whispered, “Whore,” as he began thrusting again.   When he finally released her throat, Hermione gasped for air and collapsed onto his chest.  Her fingers traced one of the sharp corners of the locket, and she whimpered into his shoulder as he pounded up into her. 

Movement at the door of the tent drew Ron’s eye.  Upon spotting Harry gaping at them and rubbing himself through his trousers, Ron smirked.  Placing a hand on the back of Hermione’s head, he made sure to prevent her from looking behind her.  His other hand moved down her side to palm one of her arse cheeks.  Ron then met Harry’s gaze in silent communication.

With a dopey grin, Harry hastily stripped out of his trousers and pants before approaching the couple.  His erection stood out ahead of him as he took care not to alert Hermione to his presence.  It was not until he had climbed on the mats behind her and touched the tip of his cock to her backside that she realized he was even there.

“What?”  Hermione jerked in surprise, but was unable to escape Ron’s iron grip.  “What are you… no… don’t!”

“Shut up!” Ron hissed, looking past her to Harry.  “Do it, Harry!  You know she’s been playing us against each other.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“The fuck you haven’t!  And if you want to come between us so badly, here’s your chance.”

With a laugh, Harry aligned his cock with her puckered opening and began pushing forward.  A scream tore from Hermione’s mouth as her arse was painfully stretched open to accommodate his cock.

“Uggh,” Harry groaned.  “It’s so… bloody… tight.”

“You like that, bitch?” Ron growled.  “I bet you do.  Not every Mudblood whore gets their arse fucked by the Chosen One.”

Sobbing, Hermione pressed her face into his neck.  She had never felt so much pain before in her life, but there was a voice in her head convincing her this was exactly what she was made to do.  She was meant to take wizard cock in her cunt, and in her mouth, and in her arse.  It was the only way she should be allowed to contribute to society.  To allow them pleasure out of her pain.

Heaving in a breath, she opened her eyes to stare at the locket laying on his chest in front of her.  It was so beautiful, so deliciously dark.  Suddenly, as if it had told her, she knew what needed to be done.  “Ron.”

“What?”

“I want the locket.  Give me the locket.”

“Fine.”  He paused as he tugged it off his neck.  As Harry desperately continued pounding her arse, Ronald pushed the chain of the necklace over her hair. 

“Yesss,” Hermione hissed as the cold metal settled between her breasts. 

Having followed the pendant’s path with his eyes, Ronald moved his hands to her breasts and pinched her nipples. 

Hearing the witch’s cry, Harry opened his eyes and noticed the chain around the back of her neck.  A frown settled over his face as he became disgusted by the fact a Mudblood bitch thought herself worthy enough to wear a trinket of such a grand Wizarding line.  It was meant to be his, and Ronald was right.  She needed to learn her place.  With a determined grunt, he snatched hold of the chain with one hand and began to pull.

“Ohhhggg,” Hermione gurgled in panic, grabbing at her throat where the locket was attempting to strangle her.  As it tightened, and Harry continued to pull, startling clarity entered her mind.  This was how she was going to die – with a pureblood cock in her cunt, a halfblood cock in her arse, and the Dark Lord’s unmitigated power choking the life from her. 

“So close,” Ron grunted, shifting to allow him better angle.  “Harry, I’m about ready.”

As if unable to form words, Harry merely grunted as he furiously rutted against her bum.

Fighting to breathe, Hermione stared up at the ceiling of the tent, which had been charmed transparent.  Her vision was darkening, and she couldn’t be certain as to which of the stars she could see were actually there and which were the products of oxygen deprivation.  She could feel the end coming nearer, building in intensity until suddenly it washed over her in a terrible, silent, magnanimous explosion.

“Fuck!” Ron shouted as her orgasm yanked his along with it.  At the same time, Harry cried out intelligibly and collapsed on her naked body, releasing his grip on the necklace.

Several seconds passed while the two boys attempted to catch their breath.  Eventually, Ron yawned.  “Ugh, get off of me, you cow.”

Harry snorted and moved to tug Hermione up with him and off of Ron’s deflating cock.  When she merely slumped to the side, however, his eyes went wide and he dropped to his knees.  “Hermione!”

Sensing something was wrong, Ron slowly scrambled up and moved toward the unresponsive girl.  “The fuck… is she breathing?”

Harry leaned down in front of her mouth and nose, then let out a deep sigh.  “Yeah.  She’s still alive.”

“Thank Merlin,” Ron replied, sinking back on his bum.  After a moment, he shook his head and cracked a grin.  “The little slag fucked herself to sleep.”

“I should probably take this from her then, so at least she won’t have nightmares,” Harry murmured as he removed the locket from her neck.  “Should we clean her up, or something?”

The redhead shrugged and then shook Hermione’s shoulder.  Eventually her eyes slowly cracked open and focused on him.  “You want a shower or something?”

Unable to find the energy to understand, let alone respond to the question, Hermione dropped her head back against the bed and fell asleep. 

“Guess not,” Ron snorted.  “Just wants to stew in our juices, it seems.  You still on watch?  Or is it my turn?”

“Not sure,” Harry mumbled, summoning his pants to him.  “We could both do it for a bit.”

“Ha!” the ginger laughed, fastening his trousers.  “Sounds good, mate.  Just ask Hermione – two blokes are better than one.”

As the two boys made their way out of the tent, the dark-haired one glanced back at the nude girl passed out in the middle of the bedding.  “You’re not worried she’ll get pregnant or anything, are you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Ron asked.  “It’s Hermione.  She’s probably on at least two potions for that.”

“True,” Harry nodded as he sank down on log outside.  “I can’t believe we just did that.  I mean… it felt so good.  Why haven’t we done that before?”

“Because Mione’s usually got a broomstick up her arse and needs to loosen up.”

“A broomstick, huh?” Harry asked, fiddling with the locket around his neck.

Raising an eyebrow, Ron followed his gaze to the tent where they knew a pair of brooms were lying about.  “Well, that could be interesting, and would leave one of us free for her mouth.  I’ve heard Muggleborns give the best head.”

After a minute, Harry cracked a grin.  “She did always want to be Head Girl.”


End file.
